“About Lee’s crash?”
Reid nodded. “I’ve been … well … not exactly hiding something. Nothing like that. But….”
Graham put down her glass. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
“You said there was nothing suspicious about Lee’s accident. Was that the truth?”
“Yes.” He said it without hesitation, but then he added, “Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“It was an unusually bad accident, but not a suspicious one. When a car hits a brick wall at high speed, well….” He waved his glass, which was now empty except for ice cubes. “The results aren’t going to be pretty, you know?”
“Lee’s car exploded. That’s normal?”
“Her car didn’t explode. It burned. There’s a difference. You can have a very intense fire in a car wreck. The engine is hot, you’ve got fuel, other fluids. Lots of flammable plastic and foam. All it takes is a sheared fuel line, a puncture in the gas tank, and a spark….” His voice trailed off.
“You said you didn’t find any evidence of explosives or explosive devices.”
“That’s right.”
“And no evidence of tampering with the car.”
“Correct.”
She rocked on her stool. “I’m a little confused here, Ross. What didn’t you tell me?”
He put down his drink. Took a deep breath. “I found a brick in the well under the driver’s seat. It’s probably nothing. Lee’s car collided with a brick wall and did a lot of damage. Her front windshield was destroyed and a brick could have easily tumbled into the car after the impact. But….”
“But?” She prompted.
“I looked at the wall during the incident, and at photos of it afterward. There’s no missing brick. Also, the color of the wall and the color of the brick I found in the car don’t match.”
“Could someone have used the brick to weight down the gas pedal and cause the accident? Force Lee’s car to race headfirst into the building?”
“Obviously, I’ve been thinking about that. Especially after you visited me at the gym. But it doesn’t fit, right? I mean, it’s not like Kelly Lee’s arms and legs were tied up. If someone put a brick on the pedal, she could have just kicked it off.”
“What if she was unconscious? Drugged?”
“It’s possible.” Reid shrugged. “The medical examiner wasn’t able to determine much. Because of the impact and the fire, there wasn’t much left of the body to examine.”
“You logged the brick?”
“Of course. But in the end, it didn’t change my conclusion.”
Graham finished her beer slowly, thinking. “Thank you for telling me this, Ross.”
“Does it help? You know, with whatever you’re doing?”
“I’m not sure yet, but it might.” She slid off the stool. “Thanks for the beer.”
“Wait. You don’t want to stay for another round?”
“I can’t tonight.” She looked at him, seeing him differently now. “But maybe another time?”
He smiled. “I’d like that.”
28
Mark Leary sat at his desk in the DA’s Office. He lowered his head and rubbed his temples. The hour was still early, but he was dead tired. Emotionally spent. He took a breath and forced his attention to the Philadelphia Inquirer article on his screen.
It was one of dozens of web pages to which a Google search for Ray Briscoe had led him. His original searches, for Vicki Briscoe and Victoria Briscoe, had not returned any relevant hits, and so far, the daughter’s name had not appeared in any of the articles about her father. Leary supposed this should comfort him, but it did not.
He had not really spoken to the woman, or even seen her for more than a few minutes. Still, he sensed there was something … off-balance about her. And even if his instincts were wrong—and they rarely were—Briscoe lived with her crime figure father on property run by a criminal syndicate. She’d admitted to Jessie that she had been stalking Kelly Lee with a desire to hurt her. These were not exactly facts describing a normal human being.
She was dangerous, and Jessie was alone with her.
So what was he going to do about it?
He rubbed his forehead again. What could he do? Possibly he could trace her location by using her mobile phone signal, but she was already chafing at his protectiveness. If he tried to track her location and she found out, that might be the end of their relationship.
So what? Isn’t her life more important than the relationship?
Maybe. But if there was another way to help her, to keep her safe, and not lose her at the same time, that would obviously be preferable. He loved her.
The sound of his cell phone vibrating roused him from his thoughts. He turned and saw Warren Williams’s name appear on the screen. Great. Just what he needed.
“Listen, Warren. Fire me if you need to. I understand how these things work. But don’t sacrifice Jessie. She’s too valuable for this office—you know I’m right—and she also deserves better from you. She—”
Warren cleared his throat loudly. “Thanks for your unbiased opinion, but if you don’t mind, I actually have some work for you to do. You know, as an employee of the DA’s Office?”
Leary glanced at his watch. “Now?”
“You really want to help Jessie?”
Leary straightened in his chair. “You know I do.”
“Then help me. I need your detective skills.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a judge of the court of common pleas, by the name of Cynthia Dax. She’s the judge assigned to the Rowland case that Kelly Lee was working on before her accident.”
“Okay.”
“Jessie visited her. Apparently, she didn’t make a good impression. Dax came here and threatened me. She wants action taken against Jessie.”
“Seriously? Can anything else go wrong?”
“Something else can always go wrong, but let’s focus on one problem at a time. I need to get Dax off my back.”
“You mean you’re not going to penalize Jessie?” Leary felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosen. He leaned back.
“I didn’t say that. But if I decide to, it will be my decision. It won’t be because some judge pushed me around. I need something on Dax. Dirt. A skeleton in her closet. Most people have something to hide, even judges. Find me something I can use to force Dax to back off. And find it quickly.”
Leary was already rising from his chair. “I’ll start right now,” he said, and ended the call.
29
It was early evening when Jessie opened the door and stepped inside the medical office of Stephen Adkins, M.D. She was relieved the office was still open. The waiting room was quiet, the line of uncomfortable-looking chairs vacant. A woman sat behind the reception desk, squinting at a computer monitor and typing. Without looking away from her screen, she said, “We’re about to close up.”
“My name is Jessica Black. I’m an assistant district attorney.”
That got the woman’s attention. “What's this about?”
“I’m looking into a matter involving a lawyer named Kelly Lee. She was here a few days ago. I’d like to speak with whomever Kelly Lee met with when she was here.”
“Can’t give you that information. HIPAA.”
Jessie wasn’t overly familiar with the privacy law, but didn’t think it applied here. “I’m not asking you for patient information. I just want to know who Kelly spoke with when she came here.”
The woman sighed, removed her hands from her keyboard, and peered at Jessie as if she were a moron. “That is patient information.”
“Kelly was a patient here?”
The woman looked suddenly angry, as if she had just been tricked into giving away highly confidential information. Jessie supposed that was an improvement over the are-you-a-moron look.
“I think you should leave,” the woman said.
“Listen to me. Kelly
Lee died a few days ago in a car accident. I’m trying to help the lawyer who’s replacing her on a big trial, to put the pieces together so that he can successfully continue the trial without her. I think she might have consulted with the doctor here as an expert for that case. Dr. Adkins? That’s why I want to know whom she spoke with.”
The woman shook her head. “If that’s what you’re looking for, I can tell you that you’re in the wrong place. Kelly was here for her annual physical, if you must know. She wasn’t here to talk about a case. Now, that’s probably more than I’m even allowed to tell you and I’m certainly not going to tell you anything else.”
Jessie nodded, hoping her disappointment didn’t show on her face. She should have known that Kelly’s visit to this doctor’s office might not have any relevance to the trial against Boffo, or to her supposed accident, but she’d been so desperate for any step forward, she’d convinced herself she would find useful information here.
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate you telling me that. I guess I did come to the wrong place.”
Back at the car, Briscoe looked at Jessie expectantly as Jessie slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. “Dead end.”
“Bummer,” Briscoe said without the slightest hint of sympathy.
Jessie checked her watch. Time was slipping away. “What’s our next stop?”
Briscoe shifted the Mercedes into drive and pulled into traffic. “After Kelly Lee was in the doctor’s office for an hour or so, she came out and I followed her to University City.”
“Where in University City?”
“A bookstore. One of those bookstore coffee house places, but not Barnes & Noble. This was like a mom-and-pop version on Sansom Street.”
Jessie had spent a lot of time in coffee shops in University City during her three years of law school at the University of Pennsylvania, but since beginning her job at the DA’s Office, she had not had many occasions to return to that neighborhood. She was sure that most of the coffee shops had changed in the ten-plus years since she’d frequented the area. “A bookstore and coffee shop in University City,” Jessie said, thinking aloud. “That’s pretty far from her office. What was she doing there?”
“Meeting with someone. A gray-haired woman in a suit.”
“Can you be more specific? Did you notice any other details about the woman?”
“No.”
Jessie watched through the car window as Briscoe navigated west. The ride took fifteen minutes in traffic. Briscoe found parking on the street, and they entered the bookstore together. The smell of fresh coffee was a welcome sensation, and Jessie spontaneously headed toward the coffee bar near the back of the store. Briscoe followed.
“Do you want anything?” Jessie said.
“Kind of late for coffee, isn’t it?”
“Not for me.”
Briscoe shrugged. “Cappuccino, if you’re buying.”
They ordered their drinks from a guy who looked like a kid to Jessie. Maybe a college student at one of the several schools that gave University City its name. After charging Jessie’s credit card, he handed the drinks to Jessie, who passed the cappuccino to Briscoe.
“Ah!” Briscoe shoved her cup onto the counter, almost dropping it. She lifted her palm and winced.
“I guess they’re a little hot,” Jessie said.
“These are surgeon’s hands, you idiot. At least, they used to be, and I’m hoping they will be again.” Briscoe stared at her palm, her face a mask of worry. After a few seconds, Briscoe seemed to calm down. She picked up her cup. “I’m alright.”
“Good.”
They stepped away from the counter. Steam rose from Jessie’s cup. She took a tentative sip. The coffee was very hot and had a slightly burnt taste, but was still pretty good.
Briscoe said, “You’re going to think I’m bullshitting you, but see that lady over there?” A brown-haired, mousy woman browsed the books in the romance aisle. “That’s the woman I saw Kelly Lee meet.” She took a swig of her cappuccino.
“In the car, you said she had gray hair.”
“That’s her.”
“You’re sure?”
Briscoe shot her a frustrated glare over the rim of her cup.
“Okay,” Jessie said. “I’m going to talk to her. Stay here.” Briscoe’s eyes flashed an objection, but Jessie headed over to the aisle of romance books before she could argue. A second later, she realized Briscoe was walking beside her anyway. They reached the woman at the same time, and Jessie said, “Excuse me. This is going to sound strange, but my name is Jessica Black. I think a friend of mine met you here the other day. Kelly Lee.”
The woman’s face lit up. “Do you know Kelly from Penn Law?”
“Yes,” Jessie said. “Is that how you know her?”
The woman seemed delighted. “I was her Torts professor.”
“They have cooking classes in law school?” Briscoe said.
The professor stared at her. “I guess you’re not a lawyer. A tort is a kind of legal claim. An act or omission that harms another.”
Briscoe’s eyes seemed to darken. “I was joking.” She pulled a book from the shelf and flipped through its pages as if it were much more interesting than the conversation.
“My name is Hazel Little,” the professor said, turning to face Jessie again. They shook hands.
“Did Kelly meet with you to talk about law?” Jessie said.
“She had some questions about the standard for certifying a class under Pennsylvania law. We spoke for half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes. I emailed her some articles, too. She’s always been very bright.”
“Did Kelly tell you anything specific about the case she was working on?”
“Not really. I think she mentioned it involved toys? We didn’t talk about specifics. She was interested in the current case law on the subject.”
“If I give you my email address, do you think you could email those articles to me?”
“I don’t see why not. Would that be helpful to you as well?”
“Extremely helpful. Thank you.”
They said goodbye and left. Outside, Briscoe said, “I thought you were trying to find Kelly’s murderer, not bone up on your legal knowledge.”
“I’ve got a few different things going on. It’s complicated.” Jessie didn’t feel like explaining to Briscoe the situation with Noah Snyder, and the legal work she’d become responsible for handling.
“You must be really fun at parties.”
“Where did Kelly go after she met with the professor at the bookstore?”
They walked toward Briscoe’s car. Briscoe unlocked it and they both got inside. “What about my thing?”
“What are you talking about?” Jessie said.
“You said you have a few different things going on. What about my thing—getting my medical license reinstated?”
“I’ll work on that after you help me. That was the deal.”
“After I help you, I won’t have any leverage.”
“I’m good to my word.”
“Your word?” Briscoe dismissed the idea with a shake of her head, as if it were hopelessly quaint. “What’s that worth?”
Jessie thought it was worth everything, but she didn’t bother trying to argue the point with Vicki Briscoe. “How about if I have a DA’s Office detective look into the claim against you? Dig around for some holes?”
Briscoe nodded carefully. “That would be a good start. More than the hospital’s insurance company bothered to do, I’m sure.”
“What did the plaintiff allege you did wrong?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I performed his surgical procedure flawlessly. But this procedure always has possible complications. I warned the patient about the risks and he wanted the procedure anyway. Later, he and Lee lied that I never told him about the complications, that I failed to get his informed consent. Apparently, it’s a common lawyer trick.” Briscoe’s face twisted in a look of disgust, which Jessie tried to ignore.<
br />
“Give me all the details.”
30
Vicki Briscoe dropped Jessie off at her apartment building. The Mercedes drove away, but Jessie stood outside in the chilly darkness, unable, for the moment, to enter the building. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach.
For all her running around over the past few days, she seemed to be moving backward rather than forward. All she’d wanted to do was ensure that Kelly Lee’s accident received scrutiny, but now she was responsible for so much more—doing the legal work on the Rowlands’ case, finding a basis to convince the state medical board to reinstate Vicki Briscoe’s license, and personally investigating Kelly’s death. She was no closer to accomplishing anything, and she’d managed to anger Warren Williams and Captain Henderson, and put her own career, as well as Leary’s and Graham’s, at risk.
For the first time since she’d stared in horror at the steaming husk of Kelly Lee’s crushed automobile, Jessie felt an awful gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Had she made a huge mistake?
No.
She couldn’t allow herself to succumb to fear and doubt. The facts had not changed. She still believed that Kelly Lee was killed—that her supposed accident had actually been orchestrated by a killer and then covered up by the police, either intentionally or through a negligent investigation by an AID team biased against the victim. Only one thing had changed, and that was that proving Kelly had been murdered was turning out to be harder than she’d anticipated. So what? Jessie had never fled from a challenge before, and she wasn’t going to start now. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. She embraced it. Throughout her life, her willingness to do the hard work was exactly what had given her an edge and enabled her to succeed.
She would take these challenges one at a time, knock down each hurdle between her and justice. Tomorrow morning, hopefully she would receive an email from Kelly’s professor with the documents she’d sent Kelly to help with the Rowland case. Jessie would begin there.
She entered the building and walked to her first-floor apartment. She took a breath, unlocked the door, and entered. She wasn’t surprised to find Leary on the couch, waiting up for her. She was too tired right now to deal with the look of concern on his face.
Jessie Black Box Set 2 Page 35
